


shameless

by funkietowns



Series: love and other emotions [7]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 00:08:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13399209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkietowns/pseuds/funkietowns
Summary: o2/o7/16





	shameless

**Author's Note:**

> o2/o7/16

_I’m not okay_.

He texted Yifan in the middle of the day, indifferent of the time or place, indifferent of Yifan’s own personal life. He expected quick responses, despite how long he took to reply to the man at times. And Yifan, despite being occupied with meetings, with office work, with paper work, would always respond to him. It didn’t matter what his own responsibilities were, it didn’t matter if he was booked with meetings all day long; Yixing was the only person that existed when he texted. It didn’t matter if all he said was _I miss you, I need you, He’s gone, I’m not okay_ ; Yifan knew it was code for _Come over_ , _I’m broken_ , _Please fix me_.

And he would. He would show up at his doorstep, a bottle of red wine in one hand because it was Yixing’s favorite when he was down. A true remedy began with a little alcohol, at least enough to forget, and it was all Yixing wanted to do. He wanted to forget the immense loneliness of being with someone he felt nothing for. He wanted to, at least for one night, pretend it was all okay. It wasn’t like he was emotionally attached to Yifan anyway—he didn’t love him in actuality, but at least he felt _something_ rather than nothing.

He would let Yifan in in complete silence. Yifan would follow him inside, his eyes fixated on Yixing’s figure as he sat on the couch, and Yifan would do the same. Yixing would avoid speaking at all costs, because it wasn’t words that he wanted to share, it wasn’t a bottle of wine, it wasn’t misery. It was explicit skin contact, it was intimate moments, it was pleasure. All he wanted was a little attention, hot hands desperately holding him as he reminded Yifan that no one could ever compare to him, that no one could fuck him the way he could.

It never took too long for things to begin. Before Yixing knew it, clothes were discarded, legs were easily spread wide open, and he could feel Yifan grinding against him. His lips would become attached to Yixing’s, and they would kiss with evident hunger. It wasn’t long after that Yixing felt his bare back pressing against the cold wall, Yifan pinning his hands up so Yixing would keep still as he teased him through the foreplay. The rest, it took place in the bed Yixing and his husband shared. It didn’t matter that he dealt with his loneliness in this way, not when Yifan had him on his knees, begging all the while. It would be okay, because with Yifan, there was no commitment, there was no in between, no expectations; nothing could go wrong.

In the morning, Yifan would always be up hours before Yixing, who slept so peacefully by his side. He’d quietly gather his clothes and leave Yixing, resuming to his daily life. He liked to believe he had fixed Yixing; half of him expected to never hear from him again, but he would always text him because it was never enough. It was a never ending cycle; Yixing would promise it would be the last time, but Yifan knew it was a lie. If anything, Yixing would end up back to square one, begging Yifan to come over. It didn’t bother Yifan anyway, because he would shamelessly render to Yixing’s calls.


End file.
